Agador Sparticus
Bio
I just started writing, today, for the first time, since i could remember. The world revealed to me thru this mindful muscle above the neck and shoulders appears to be far superior in nature than that of all our existential crisis'.
Stories (2/0)
Pro Se
Doors open now, I couldn't begin to start sooner, anytime I stepped up and out nothing but missals flew by to greet me, stopping all forward motion and sending us backwards through time, again and again. It wasn't long before the heart shaped locket disappeared into the darkness. It seemed to be the game being played since the beginning of time. Control the past, controls the present, manipulate the future. It does seem odd, though, it isn't as far fetched as I had first imagined. No matter how hard pressed anything was, it seemed it wasn't ever enough for the darkness. Any sliver of light it snuffed out with its innate ability to redefine lines of justification. The brighter the light, the more the darkness grew. Just as soon as a thought could formulate, there was the darkness, like missals on my door step. When did waving become taboo. When did acknowledging each other become so dangerous. We were all too busy destroying the world to even notice that the natural inhabitants, (bunnies, birds, squirrels) wanted the least to do with us. The very gesture of making presence known sends the birds right back to the sky, the squirrels into trees, and the bunnies across the road after the chickens. I can't tell if it was ever good, or ever bad. Thats to say I could say how it was/is suppose to be at all. It is as though I am just now waking up, everything I understood as normal became the very notion of prison life. Work eat sleep work eat sleep work eat sleep, like a robot, no time. The very system we all bought into created no time for us to experience this place. And now, now that it failed those who believed in it, we all fell. There were few who got out early on, off the grid sustainable living. If it wasn't for these pioneers who stepped away from the system and reclaimed the power, there could be no future around the bend. Though even now it feels removed, like a distant planet flourishing without control, or regulations, true love. That was the first time I could really account a need for love. That first look into ourselves where we could see that making any decisions that brought hardship to another was not the way. Does it always have to get worse before it gets better? Something the wildlife picked up on. Something we all over looked for too long. Taking it on the chin became the evolution. When we began to level off, we began to see what was worth fighting for, we began to see the games. The most impressive aspect of it all; not knowing who to blame, and they made it this way. Now as I reflect into my memories, it begins to dawn on me how the darkness is as fruitful as is deadly. True truths get lost in the dark, like the heart shaped locket, what it represents. It is more than just a possession, it is an ideal. Who's dam matters most? and who will be able to explain it to me when the time arrives? and does it even matter? It won't be long, in the end, love will take over, we will all leave the same way we came in, and I imagine that is different for everyone. For me it'll be kicking and screaming, for others, I hope with grace and dignity. It has been almost a year since I wrote in this thing. I am writing today because it has been quiet, and I can finally feel my thoughts returning home. It feels brighter than it has been, like a shift is finally happening. It could be a calm before a great storm, living most of this life with that feeling knocking from the outside in. I have to keep believing, it is all I have ever known despite all the difficulties and fall backs, keeping our beliefs during these unclear scenarios, these disaster protocols, these misdirecting mishaps. If there is one thing I have grown to appreciate, no matter what is happening, our best answer is a guess as the truth walks quietly unspoken, for as soon as truth begins its journey, nothing but what appears to be perversion formulates. You must be a good listener and that is easier said than done. Finding an ability to not respond to the information being presented in order to refrain from corrupting the exposure, it truly is a delicate art. That shall be thy biggest challenge, speaking truth, and being met with misunderstandings. I have always heard the point is to be understood. I tend to retract from carrying points around, especially sharp ones. Sword or no sword, any truth is a heavy burden. We all died yesterday. I can't remember my name. It is partly the reason for this diary. We could call it a map, a network. To keep the spark alive. We are all carrying seeds for the future, we must endure, we must evolve. This is only the beginning.
By Agador Sparticus3 years ago in Futurism
This Moment
Always, never and always. That is what I keep remembering my old self saying all the time. ALWAYS this, or NEVER that. If I could find a way to eliminate these concepts from the cycle I could jump the Horizontal scales and redirect these hiccups far far far from here. There is certainly comfort here, comfort in the unknown. The fear is so tangible and unwelcome in the same moment I see it all the same. Lose my voice, fall short of the grandour I imagine all too well to be real until I convince myself otherwise. These inner demons, bla bla bla. That opposing baffle set up to persuade you out of being your true self. Imagine having a complete internal dialogue all day long streaming non stop and being authenticated by the visual world, the only hinderance is the belief behind the power we all face within ourselves. How deep has this governing voice been implanted within the pathways of our subconscious, showing up like pop up ads right before the big leap of faith into the room with no ceiling. Dream dismantlers, usually pertaining to an old model, a version of the self that no longer operates, yet, someone, something somewhere, still processes it and offers it up as an alternative, a long forgotten dream, memory, still wondering if you are thinking of them. It is moments like these that send me off into the wise stares of the old, thru time, seeming to stop. That is when I realize, ALWAYS remember to breath, ok this is vertical, breathing, always breath, though being underwater with out a snorkel or scuba gear could become challenging. Never forget this.
By Agador Sparticus3 years ago in Psyche
